


The Man Who Wasn't There

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Asylum, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottoming from the Top, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 17:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has been wrongly placed in Avalon Asylum by his sister. Another patient, Merlin, befriends him and offers a way out. Merlin, however, isn't all he seems to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Who Wasn't There

_  
Yesterday, upon the stair,_   
_I met a man who wasn’t there._   
_He wasn’t there again today._   
_I wish, I wish he’d go away..._

  
                                                                                                     From "[Antigonish](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antigonish_\(poem\))" by Hughes Mearns

~

  
“I’m not going to take that. I don’t belong in here.”  
  
The male nurse gave Arthur a look that said “Right, I’ve heard that one before. Why don’t you just take your meds like a good little psycho so I can carry on with my day?”  
  
What the attendant actually said was, “Doesn’t matter, Mister Pendragon. You’re in here, you swallow your medicine.” He held the tray out to Arthur and raised his eyebrows meaningfully.  
  
This was the third day Arthur had had to spend in this stupid asylum all because his sister was convinced he’d snapped. He wasn’t mental. He wasn’t. There really had been spiders crawling up the walls and loud blaring noises coming from all around. There had been footsteps in his kitchen and he was positive he was being watched. The fact that Morgana believed him crazy only strengthened his theory that it was all a conspiracy.  
  
Arthur looked closer at the nurse’s name tag. “Timothy,” he said amiably, and Timothy’s brow raised a hair higher, “Really, it’s all a big misunderstanding. I’m not insane. I don’t belong here. There’s been a mistake.”  
  
Timothy sighed and stared at Arthur from beneath heavy lids. “Please, Mister Pendragon. I don’t want to have to call someone.”  
  
Arthur snarled and with a clenched fist swatted the tray out of Timothy’s hands, sending small cups of pills and water to the floor. Immediately a set of heavy doors swung open and a pair of large men came barrelling towards Arthur with grim expressions.  
  
“No! Unhand me!” Arthur struggled. The more he wriggled to get loose the tighter they held him.  
  
Timothy clicked his tongue in a disapproval. “Not a good way to begin your stay, Mister Pendragon.” He shifted his gaze to the two hulks manhandling Arthur. “Take him to Solitary. I think he just needs some time alone.”  
  
“No!” Arthur tried more than ever to pull himself free, and found himself being dragged unceremoniously past staring patients towards a dim hallway. “No, you can’t do this. I’m not crazy! You can’t do this!”  
  
Timothy only smiled and shook his head before turning on his heel to leave. Arthur threw every curse he knew at the young man, swearing he’d have his head if it was the last thing he ever did.

~

Solitary Confinement was dark, smelly, and completely silent. It was, as one would think, also quite lonely. It was hard to measure time passing. Arthur counted to sixty multiple times, trying to keep track of how many minutes he’d been locked up, only to find that he’d lost count of how many times he’d reached sixty, therefore rendering the whole thing useless.  
  
The only time light would come in was when the window panel slid open to reveal a nurse in the corridor outside. Through the bars, the nurse asked if Arthur was feeling up to returning to the common room, to which Arthur always replied, “I’ll kill you all, I swear.”  
  
Arthur had a strong spirit. The first few times someone came in with food he jumped up and tried to run past them out the door, but each time he’d been restrained and tranquilised. By the time he woke up, the food was cold and tasted like sick and he threw the plate at the wall in disgust.  
  
That certainly didn’t help things. He not only starved, but made a mess of his cell. It was bad enough he had to relieve himself in a bucket. If he kept up his current behaviour the environment would become downright unsanitary.  
  
He’d been in Solitary a week before he realised he’d have to clean up his act. Behaving this way certainly wasn’t convincing anybody he wasn’t mad, and at least out there he had a decent mattress, not a bedroll on a stone floor.  
  
“Going to take our medicine today, Mister Pendragon?” Timothy asked smiling.  
  
Arthur snatched a cup of pills from the tray. “So help me, if you speak to me like I’m in primary school one more time...”  
  
“Just trying to be friendly,” Timothy replied. “You might try it sometime. It’d do you a world of good.”  
  
Arthur grumbled and downed the pills, then stuck out his tongue. Timothy nodded in approval and Arthur stepped out of line to let the next poor sod take his meds.  
  
He sat at an unoccupied table and started playing with the deck of cards there. Not really playing, more like standing them up into little triangle houses. His father had always hated when he did it as a child. “Why don't you just play with them like  _normal_  children,” his father would complain. “If you can’t use something properly you oughtn’t to use it at all.”  
  
Arthur would always say “Yes, Father,” and set up a game of Solitaire but as soon as the man left the room he’d go back to building card houses. Before he grew up and went to uni then on to own Father’s business when the man died, he’d been able to stack cards pretty high. Now he could only do the standard three since he’d been out of practise.  
  
Arthur was just about to place a fourth card house down when a gust of air came and tipped them all over. Arthur looked up at the source in frustration.  
  
“Sorry,” the man apologised. He was lean, had kind eyes and a friendly smile, and his hair was a wild raven hurricane-swept mess. He sat down across from Arthur like they’d been mates for years.  
  
Arthur huffed and ignored this stranger in favour of starting from the beginning. He shot a glare the man’s way when pale, slim fingers extracted two cards from the deck and began copying Arthur almost exactly.  
  
“Can I help you?” Arthur snapped bitterly.  
  
The man smiled like he was in on his own private joke. “That remains to be seen. What’s your name?”  
  
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Arthur.”  
  
“Hello, Arthur. I’m Merlin.”  
  
“Well, then how may I be of assistance,  _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked sarcastically.  
  
“As I said, that remains to be seen.” Merlin said no more and returned to stacking card houses. He was actually quite skilled.  
  
When he saw Arthur watching him closely, his lips tilted in a grin and he said, “The trick is in the fold. Got to fold the tops inward a bit so they kiss.” At that moment he slowly lifted his hands away and placed a final house to complete a tower: Three on the bottom, two in the middle, and one on top.  
  
Arthur was impressed, and even more determined than ever to build his own small masterpiece. He was just about to compliment Merlin’s handiwork when the man blew softly and sent the whole thing crashing down. Arthur stared at the ruins in shock.  
  
Merlin laughed like music and Arthur looked up. “You look like someone’s kicked your puppy,” Merlin commented. Arthur immediately contorted his face to a neutral mask. “It’s alright. Things are created to be destroyed. It wasn’t going to last forever.”  
  
“I know that,” Arthur replied snobbishly.  
  
Merlin’s smile hinted otherwise but he said nothing. Arthur returned to stacking his own houses—and failing spectacularly since he couldn’t concentrate with Merlin there—in silence. Finally, Arthur couldn’t take it.  
  
“Just what do you want anyways?” he asked Merlin.  
  
Merlin’s smile didn’t falter. “I noticed they had you in Solitary for a while.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So it’s good to have friends in this place. That’s all.”  
  
“And you want to be my friend.”  
  
Merlin shrugged and leaned back in his chair, totally at ease. “It’s not as if either of us have anything to lose.”  
  
Arthur gave up stacking cards and sat back to match Merlin’s position. “You said you wanted my help. Why should I befriend you when it’s obvious you just want to use me?”  
  
“Actually, I said it remains to be seen,” Merlin corrected. “If you  _can_  help me, brilliant. If you can’t,” he shrugged, “then I’ve made a friend. I think it’s a win-win situation.”  
  
“What makes you think I can help you anyways?”  
  
“Because. You don’t belong here. And neither do I.”  
  
They stared silently at one another, Merlin letting his point sink in, until finally Arthur lifted his chin and replied, “You want to escape.”  
  
Merlin nodded. “And I want you to help me.”  
  
“How?”  
  
Merlin smiled and he leaned forward to begin stacking card houses again. “All in good time.”

 

 

~

Arthur didn’t see Merlin again until two days later when he was going down the stairs and Merlin was walking up.  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin greeted him halfway.  
  
“Hello, Merlin.”  
  
“Care to play a game?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
Merlin led him to the table they were at two days prior and Arthur found there was already a game of chess set up. They took up their old positions and started to play. Merlin was black and Arthur was white.  
  
“Mind if I ask why you’re in here?” Arthur questioned when he jumped one of Merlin’s pieces.  
  
“They think I’m dangerous.” Merlin secured one of Arthur’s pieces. “I’m not.”  
  
“Why do they think that?”  
  
“I was attacked. I defended myself a little too well.” Merlin shrugged as if it didn’t bother him in the slightest. “I killed him.”  
  
“And they put you in here? That hardly makes any sense.”  
  
“They put you in here, didn’t they? You’re as sane as they come.”  
  
“How would you know?” Arthur wondered.  
  
Merlin captured another piece. “I know the type.”  
  
They played until they came to a stalemate, at which point Merlin said they should restart. Arthur agreed and as Merlin set up the game pieces again, asked, “How long have you been here?”  
  
“Too long.” Merlin bit out. It was the first sign of anger Arthur had seen the man display and the checked storm brewing beneath the surface was momentarily terrifying. “Three years. You go first this time.”  
  
Arthur took his turn and they began again. “My sister put me here,” he said.  
  
“Great sister you have.”  
  
“I thought so too, until this happened.”  
  
“What made her think you lost it?”  
  
“She said I was suffering from hallucinations, was becoming too paranoid. She thinks I have schizophrenia, even though nobody in our family has a history of mental illness.”  
  
“How long had you been hallucinating?”  
  
“I  _wasn’t_  hallucinating. She was lying to me,” Arthur said furiously. His hand pounding on the table made a few of the pieces jump.  
  
“Alright,” Merlin continued as if nothing had happened, “how long was she lying to you?”  
  
“A few months. Long enough for it to affect my performance at work.”  
  
“Where’d you work?”  
  
“I owned my father’s advertising company. I was damn good at what I did too until recently. Now even if I do get out of here, I’ll never be able to hold such a high position again. Nobody would respect a nutjob.”  
  
“You need to prove them wrong,” Merlin suggested.  
  
“How? What can I do locked up in here?”  
  
Merlin frowned, not only at Arthur’s current situation, but at the state of the board. He’d backed himself into a corner. “We’ll think of something.”  
  
The doors to the common room swung open and two men in suits came in. They didn’t spare the patients a single glance as they made their way to the hallway that led to the Solitary Confinement cells. Merlin’s eyes widened in panic at the sight of them.  
  
“It seems you’ve won,” he said hurriedly as he stood up. “We’ll have a rematch tomorrow. I’ve got to go.”  
  
Arthur laughed humourlessly. “Where could you possibly have to go in here?”  
  
Merlin’s eyes drifted to the intimidating men once more and Arthur followed the gaze. “I just...I’ll see you tomorrow Arthur.” Without another word, Merlin left the room through the same doors the gentlemen had entered.

~

Arthur did not see Merlin the next day or the next day or even the day after that. It was four days until they came upon each other on the stairs again and Merlin asked to play a game of chess.  
  
“Where have you been?” Arthur inquired as soon as they’d taken up their positions across from each other.  
  
“Solitary,” Merlin replied without looking up.  
  
“What for?”  
  
“Apparently I was being uncooperative.”  
  
“Hmm.” Arthur could relate. That was really all the reason anyone needed to put someone in the dark cells.  
  
“How have things been out here?” Merlin asked. “Has Sophia tried to have sex with you yet?”  
  
Arthur froze. “What?”  
  
Merlin chuckled. “Sophia.” He nodded over Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur turned to see a dark blonde making eyes at him from across the room. “She’s manic-depressive and has tried to fuck anything with a Y chromosome in the two years she’s been here.”  
  
Arthur turned back to Merlin and the chessboard, shuddering. “She’s not exactly my type.”  
  
“And what is your type? Gingers?”  
  
Arthur laughed. “Hardly. Not that there’s anything wrong with gingers. I just prefer those with a Y chromosome myself.”  
  
“Hmm. Of all things, I didn’t think we’d have  _that_ in common.”  
  
Merlin winked and Arthur’s stomach flipped. “What did you think we’d have in common then?” he asked to change the topic.  
  
“Besides the fact that neither of us belong in here and we enjoy making card houses? I don’t know.” Merlin jumped Arthur’s piece. “We both have blue eyes.”  
  
“Mine are bluer.”  
  
“Congratulations.”  
  
“What sort of music do you like?” Arthur asked, laughing.  
  
“Indie. You?”  
  
“Techno.”  
  
Merlin burst into guffaws and Arthur was surprised the whole room didn’t turn to stare at him, though in here, more outrageous displays had occurred. “A businessman that likes techno. You really are mental!”  
  
“Oi, I told you that in confidence!”  
  
“And that’s where you went wrong.” Merlin’s laughter abruptly stopped when his eyes caught movement off to the side. He looked down and made himself small in the chair. “Don’t look now, but we’re about to have company.”  
  
Arthur, going against Merlin’s suggestion, did look and saw a smiling nurse walking towards them. She had soft skin and long dark curls and her name tag read Gwen.  
  
“Hello,” she said, stopping next to Arthur’s chair. “Arthur, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yes,” he replied warily.  
  
“How are you feeling today, Arthur?”  
  
“I’m fine.” He shot a quick glance at Merlin, silently asking “What’s with her?” Merlin shrugged. “Er, how are you?”  
  
Gwen laughed. “Oh, I’m well, thank you. And how are you finding Avalon? I understand you had trouble settling in at first.”  
  
“It’s fine, I guess. I still don’t belong here but I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do about it.” Arthur gave her his most charming smile. “Unless you’re here to tell me I’m free to go.”  
  
Gwen looked back at him sadly. “No, I’m sorry.”  
  
Arthur jerked his shoulder up and down. “Oh well. Nothing to be done then.”  
  
“I see.” She glanced at Merlin, then back to Arthur, then back to Merlin, and finally to Arthur, who watched with a raised brow. “I’ll just leave you alone then.”  
  
As soon as she was out of earshot, Merlin took his turn and Arthur asked, “What the hell was that about?”  
  
“No idea, mate. But she’s talking about you now.”  
  
Arthur turned and sure enough Gwen was whispering something in Timothy’s ear, her eyes staring straight at Arthur. Timothy nodded at whatever Gwen was saying and he too looked at Arthur.  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Merlin stated. “And soon.”

~

Merlin’s idea of soon wasn’t like other people’s. A month passed and even though Merlin said he was planning something, as far as Arthur could tell he only played chess, stacked card houses, and watched whatever terrible programme was on television. He didn’t see Merlin any other time.  
  
Arthur tried finding Merlin’s room in the asylum but he was always stopped by a nurse before he got too far past his own door. Visiting patients in their private rooms was forbidden so Arthur always made the excuse of saying he already was in his room. He could play crazy when it suited his needs.  
  
Twice more the men in suits that looked like government officials came and twice more Merlin excused himself from whatever they were doing. Other than that, Merlin never acted strange and they had become close friends in the time they’d spent together.  
  
Arthur soon found himself wanting more. Late at night he would think of Merlin’s lopsided smile and blue eyes—which may not have been as blue as his own, but were still enchanting all the same—and deep throated laugh and wild dark hair. He’d never once touched Merlin, had never grazed his fingers when moving a piece on the chessboard, rubbed his thigh when sitting side by side on the sofa, or even shaken the man’s hand. But he dreamed of touching Merlin all over and of Merlin touching him back.  
  
It didn’t help that Merlin looked constantly bright and healthy all the time. The other patients, even Arthur himself, looked tired and ragged and had lost the spark of life that Merlin seemed to always radiate. It drew Arthur in like a magnet and kept him revolving around Merlin as if he were a planet in orbit around its sun.  
  
Merlin seemed to be aware of Arthur’s attraction, even played on it sometimes with a wink or a heated look that sent jolts of arousal through Arthur. On days when Merlin was absent—in Solitary he always claimed—Arthur would seek quick release in a linen closet, because there was no privacy elsewhere, not even in his own cell where a nurse could come by at any minute to check up on him.  
  
Still, Merlin didn’t touch him, not even a friendly pat on the shoulder, though Arthur was sure Merlin felt the same way, at least a little bit. So Arthur took a chance.  
  
They were watching an old film on the television, what it was they couldn’t tell, the reception was so poor. As always a good third of a yard separated them. Daring a quick glance over to make sure Merlin’s attention was on the screen, Arthur slowly opened his legs a little wider so that his knee just barely touched Merlin’s.  
  
Merlin didn’t react at first, probably because it was so slight he didn’t feel it. Arthur pressed on, letting his knee get closer, until suddenly Merlin flinched away from him like he’d been bitten by a poisonous snake.  
  
Arthur returned to his previous position, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Sorry,” he muttered and turned his attention to the staticy film. He didn’t dare chance a look at Merlin until three minutes had passed, and then he found Merlin staring straight back at him.  
  
Merlin’s face was torn between pain and something Arthur couldn’t tell. He chewed his bottom lip and when Arthur looked at him he wouldn’t look away.  
  
“What’s the matter?” Arthur asked.  
  
“I...” Merlin’s frowned deepened. “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way, Arthur. I do.” Arthur blushed again but his heartbeat doubled. “But we can’t. We can’t touch.”  
  
“Why not?” Arthur slid a fraction closer. “Is it because we’ll be seen? I don’t think it’s forbidden to sit next to each other.”  
  
Merlin shook his head. “It’s not that. I want to, believe me, but we can’t.”  
  
Arthur’s frown matched Merlin’s before he perked up at a thought. “The linen closet.”  
  
Merlin tilted his head. “What?”  
  
“The linen closet,” Arthur repeated. “We could...watch each other. You know.” He made an up and down gesture with his hand that Merlin was sure to understand. Merlin did and the smile that brightened his face was breathtaking.  
  
“Yeah. Alright, let’s go,” he said, nodding excitedly.  
  
Arthur did a quick glance around before walking calmly up to his favourite closet, Merlin following close behind. Extra scrubs and patient gowns and towels lined the shelves and a single bulb lit the small space.  
  
When Arthur turned around from closing the door, Merlin already had his trousers down to his knees. He was staring at Arthur hungrily as he brought his hand up to wrap around his cock.  
  
“Fuck,” Arthur breathed. He couldn’t get his trousers and pants down fast enough.  
  
“You have no idea what I want to do to you, Arthur,” Merlin confessed. “From the first time I saw you...” He licked his lips and set a steady rhythm for himself. Arthur matched it.  
  
“Tell me,” Arthur said. “What do you want to do to me, Merlin?”  
  
“Your lips.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Perfect for sucking cock.”  
  
Arthur let out a slight moan as he twisted his hand around the head. “You’re right, I love it,”  
  
“I know you do. I could tell.”  
  
“More, tell me more.” Arthur quickened his strokes and Merlin followed suit.  
  
“Want to fuck your mouth. Want to see spit dripping down your chin while you take all of me and finger me. I want you to suck me off while you stretch me and then I want to ride you.”  
  
“Holy fuck, Merlin.”  
  
“Can’t you just imagine it, Arthur? Me bouncing on your fat cock, screaming because of how good you’ll feel inside me. I don’t usually scream, Arthur, but I have a feeling you’ll make me.”  
  
Arthur could imagine it. He’d be making it reality if Merlin would allow him to touch. But for now he stripped his cock relentlessly, precome making it sweetly slick, as he listened to Merlin’s filthy words of encouragement.  
  
“I’d let you come inside me,” Merlin continued, “I’d let you fill me up and drip down the backs of my thighs. You could rub your come all over me and smack my arse till it’s red and sore.”  
  
Merlin was losing himself now, and Arthur was there with him in his fantasy. Merlin’s head fell back as he pumped himself furiously, and he closed his eyes, but Arthur watched with fierce determination. He didn’t even need to put that much effort in now, just hearing and watching Merlin was bringing him closer to the edge.  
  
“And after that?” Arthur nudged. “Would I get a turn? Would you fuck me?”  
  
Merlin sighed. “God, yeah. I’d bend you over and work you open with my tongue. Drive you insane till you begged for my cock.”  
  
That did it. Arthur’s arse clenched and his arousal peaked as he spent himself in his hand. Merlin erupted a couple strokes later and they stood shakily for a moment, collecting themselves.  
  
“I wish I could kiss you,” Arthur whispered into the blissful silence.  
  
Merlin leaned forward and for a brief second Arthur thought they were going to kiss. But Merlin stopped short just a fraction of a centimetre away. It felt as though Arthur were about to kiss a television screen. Every hair on his body was standing on end and electricity hummed in his veins. His lips tingled and he yearned to close the distance but knew as soon as he made a move, Merlin would jump back. He let himself simply share Merlin’s space, breath Merlin’s air, for this too short period of time before Merlin finally did pull away and leave Arthur alone in the linen closet.

~

As Arthur regained his knack for making card houses, he understood Merlin’s earlier statement—that things were created to be destroyed—a little better. It didn’t matter if a masterfully crafted house of cards fell if he could simply build another one.  
  
So when a visitor from The Outside, as Arthur had taken to calling it, came and knocked down an impressive house he’d built, Arthur didn’t get as upset as he would have before.  
  
“Sorry,” the visitor apologised as he sat across from Arthur, in Merlin’s usual seat.  
  
Arthur looked up. It was Leon, his old friend and right-hand man from work. “It’s alright,” Arthur waved it off. “Things are created to be destroyed,” he echoed Merlin’s words.  
  
Leon took in the state of Arthur sadly. The blonde hair that used to lay flat and orderly now spiked up in front. The golden tan of his skin had faded to a sickly yellow. His eyes, though just as bright and clear as ever, had shadows beneath them, and his face looked gaunt and hollow, as if he were slowly withering away.  
  
On the inside, apart from feeling hungry nearly all the time, Arthur had never felt better. He had a sneaking suspicion he was in love and he was certain the only reason Merlin wasn’t with him now was because he’d had a breakthrough on how to get out of this place and was fine tuning the plan. Either that or the poor bloke was in Solitary again. It could really go either way.  
  
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Leon answered. “How are you, then?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“No, not really. I don’t belong here, and I keep telling people that, but nobody seems to understand.”  
  
“Arthur. You tried to fire a man because you thought he was possessed by Satan.”  
  
“I never said by Satan. I said by a demon. There’s a difference.”  
  
“And you thought Owain was planning to castrate you.”  
  
“I didn’t like the way he was using that paper cutter.”  
  
“Arthur.”  
  
“I’m not crazy, Leon. It’s Morgana. She must have done something to me. Drugged me or something.”  
  
Leon looked appalled. “How could you say that of your own sister?”  
  
“ _Half_ -sister. I’ve come to realise that ‘half’ means all the difference in here. She wanted the company from the beginning and now I see she ruined me to get it.”  
  
Leon shook his head. “The doctors were right. You’re getting worse.”  
  
Arthur slammed his hand on the table. Leon flinched. “They’re lying!”  
  
Leon frowned sympathetically. Arthur wanted to take Leon’s pity and shove it down his throat. “They said you haven’t made any friends. You sit alone and talk to yourself nearly every day.”  
  
Arthur was outraged. “What? How could they say that? They know—” Arthur stopped short when he saw Gwen coming towards him in his peripheral. She was wearing a worried expression. “Gwen,” Arthur began, “tell my friend that I’m not alone in here.”  
  
“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head in confusion. She’d only come over to calm him and make sure he wouldn’t be a danger to his visitor.  
  
“Tell him,” Arthur pleaded. “The man I sit with in this very spot. We play chess and cards, and he sits right there.” Arthur pointed to where Leon was currently seated. “Tell him about Merlin.”  
  
Gwen sighed and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but there’s no one named Merlin in this facility.”

~

Arthur paced back and forth in his cell. After Gwen denied the existence of Merlin, he’d thrown a bit of a tantrum that landed him back in Solitary. He hated Leon having to see him dragged out like some raving lunatic, but he hated the nurses even more for putting him in that situation.  
  
Merlin was real. He had to be. Who else had he been playing chess with or building card houses with? Not himself, surely. He wasn’t insane. Or was he?  
  
Arthur didn’t know what to believe anymore, and that, more than anything was the most frightening. The only thing worse than being locked up in an asylum and not being crazy, was being locked up and not knowing whether you were crazy or not. If he couldn’t trust his own brain, who could he trust?  
  
They kept him in Solitary for two days, and a long two days it was. He kept going over and over in his head the events that had occurred: the beginnings of paranoia and suspicion, things going bump in the night, his sister’s accusations, his eventual arrival at Avalon, meeting Merlin, befriending Merlin, falling in love with Merlin... When exactly did he lose his hold on reality? At what point had he truly lost his mind?  
  
When he was finally free of the dank cell and allowed to go to the common room again, he ignored Merlin in the chair across from him. He didn’t set up the chessboard, only went about stacking card houses as he had that first day.  
  
Merlin frowned and snapped his fingers. Arthur didn’t react. He did it again and still nothing. Finally Merlin knocked down the tower Arthur had been working on and that got his attention.  
  
“What’s up with you, Pendragon?”  
  
Arthur glared. “You’re not real.”  
  
Merlin was shocked. “Y-Yes I am. I’m every bit as real as you.”  
  
Arthur shook his head. “You’ve been lying to me from the very beginning. Or rather I’ve been lying to myself,” he said sadly. “I made you up. There’s a reason you’re too perfect. Because I made you up.”  
  
“Well, while that’s certainly flattering, it’s not true. I am real.”  
  
“Prove it. Go talk to Gwen and tell her I haven’t been sitting here alone for the past month.” Merlin didn’t move. “That’s what I thought.” Arthur returned to his card houses.  
  
“Arthur, please.”  
  
“Leave me alone, Merlin.”  
  
“Arthur—”  
  
“I mean it.”  
  
“I need you,” Merlin begged. “I _love_  you.”  
  
Arthur froze and the two houses he had stacked fell with a soft  _swoosh_. He lowered his arms and folded his hands in his lap, refusing to meet Merlin’s gaze until his heart calmed down. When he finally raised his eyes, Merlin was crying silently, knuckles white from clutching the table.  
  
“Go away, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly. Merlin’s chest heaved. Arthur blinked and Merlin was gone.

~

It should have been a relief. Merlin had been a delusion, nothing more, nothing less. But something tugged at Arthur’s heart, something Arthur knew was love.  
  
It was stupid. How could he have fallen in love with something that wasn’t even real? Even more baffling, how could something imaginary love him back? The whole idea was absurd. Absurd and yet relentlessly, mercilessly puzzling.  
  
For three weeks Arthur suffered without Merlin. There were times when he wished he had never told Merlin to go away. Sure, Merlin was a figment, but at least then Arthur hadn’t been lonely. He had simply been blissfully ignorant and happy. He sometimes wondered if he could ever go back to that time before it all came crashing down. He realised, like a child moving on to adulthood, that he couldn’t.  
  
The loss of Merlin also meant the loss of possible escape, but by then Arthur didn’t want to escape. He was insane, wasn’t he? Merlin’s last disappearing act confirmed that well enough. If Arthur was that out of touch with reality, did he really deserve to be out in the real world? Could he even function properly anymore?  
  
No. It was better for him to be locked up. Much better.  
  
But at the end of three weeks—a long three weeks that seemed to drag into eternity—Merlin reappeared.  
  
It was morning, Arthur could tell that by the light that entered in through his barred window. Merlin was pacing back and forth by the bed and it was his footsteps that had woken him up.  
  
“Arthur! You’re awake!”  
  
Arthur groaned and rolled over. “Why are you here?”  
  
“I need your help. It’s important, otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”  
  
“How did you even get in here? Oh, that’s right, you’re  _not real_.”  
  
Merlin sank to his knees and folded his hands in front of him, as if in prayer. “Arthur, please. Please, if you ever thought of me as your friend, or anything more, you’ll help me. This is a chance for me to get out. For  _us_  to get out.” Merlin was close to tears. “I don’t want to die, Arthur. I want to be with you, in the real world, on the outside. Please.”  
  
Arthur curled in on himself and put his hands over his ears. “Not real, not real, not real,” he chanted.  
  
“Arthur, please!”  
  
“ _What do you want from me?!_ ” Arthur yelled.  
  
Merlin flinched. “Just help me get out. I heard them talking about electroshock therapy. Just help me get out before...please, I don’t want to die. I can’t die in here, not like this,” he sobbed.  
  
It tore Arthur apart inside to see Merlin this way, imagined or not. “How? What can I do?”  
  
“I’ll tell you everything you need to know, step by step.” Merlin perked up.  
  
“And then you’ll leave me alone?”  
  
Merlin swallowed. “If that’s what you want.”  
  
“I don’t know anything anymore,” Arthur replied truthfully.  
  
“That’s okay. I know everything.”

~

Merlin  _was_  pretty knowledgeable.  
  
“Timothy has a lighter in his pocket,” he told Arthur.  
  
“Is that why he always reeks of stale cigarettes?”  
  
“Yes,” Merlin said. “You’ll have to steal it off him somehow for my plan to work.”  
  
“Will we be lighting something on fire?”  
  
“You will be.”  
  
Arthur bit his lip and contemplated, not for the first time, backing out. But then he thought of Merlin sobbing on his knees, begging for his life, and he screwed his courage to the sticking place.  
  
Arthur started up the spiral staircase Timothy was now walking down. Merlin had relocated himself to the top of the landing for a better view. He looked down at Arthur and nodded encouragingly.  
  
“Oof, sorry, mate,” Arthur apologised after accidentally-on-purpose bumping into him. He surreptitiously slipped a hand into Timothy’s trouser pocket and pulled out the lighter, keeping eye contact all the while. “Whoa, don’t fall.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Timothy spat. “Get your hands off me.”  
  
“It was an accident. Fuck’s sake, calm down.”  
  
Merlin rewarded him with two thumbs up from above.  
  
“Now what?” Arthur asked when he reached the top.  
  
“To the linen closet.”  
  
Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”  
  
“We need something that’ll burn. Bedclothes and linens and such burn well. Come on.”  
  
Arthur followed Merlin back down the stairs to the linen closet. “How will I get these out without being noticed?”  
  
Merlin gave him a sheepish grin. “Luck?”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation and picked up an armful of sheets. “Where am I going with these?”  
  
“The kitchen. Put them in the oven and turn the fire on. I’ll keep lookout.”  
  
Merlin peeked out the closet to check if anyone was passing by. When he was certain nobody was, he gestured to Arthur, who walked as calmly as he could to the kitchen, as if he was  _supposed_  to be taking an armful of sheets there. He did as Merlin asked and a fire roared to life.  
  
“Alright, now we’ve got to move quick. The fire alarm in here will go off in probably about ten minutes, but we’ve got to make trouble somewhere else.” All the while Merlin was leading Arthur back up the stairs and toward the common room. He pointed to their usual table where the deck of cards was sitting. “Make a house of cards, quick quick quick!”  
  
Arthur sat down and focused all he could on the cards. Merlin kept appearing and disappearing, presumably going back up and downstairs to check both on Arthur’s progress and the burning sheets in the oven. Arthur bit his tongue as he concentrated and finally he had a rather impressive tower. Three rows: three on bottom, two in the middle, and one on top.  
  
“Great. Now light it on fire.”  
  
“What?” Arthur looked at Merlin like he was mad. Maybe he was. Maybe they both were.  
  
“There’s no time for questions. Light it on fire then meet me in the Solitary corridor.” Merlin disappeared again.  
  
“I really hope he knows what he’s doing,” Arthur muttered as he flicked the lighter. He lit the top triangle then backed away slowly—slowly, so as not to disturb the air currents and send it crashing down too soon—then ran towards Solitary.  
  
He heard the patients “ooh” and “ahh” behind him as his house of cards caught on fire. Some of them were too out of it to realise fire was bad. Some of them didn’t start panicking till the curtains were ablaze.  
  
Merlin was at the end of the long, dim hallway. Solid iron doors lined the sides and Merlin was jumping up and down at the end of them all like an impatient child. “Hurry, Arthur, hurry! I’m down here!”  
  
Arthur pushed his legs as fast as he could go. He hadn’t run or done any real exercise in almost two months. His muscles were out of shape.  
  
“Hurry!”  
  
Arthur reached the end of the corridor and saw that after a corner, there was a narrow set of stairs that led down somewhere dark and foreboding. Arthur hesitated.  
  
“Arthur, come  _on_. Don’t ruin everything now when we’re so close.”  
  
Arthur took a deep breath and went down the stairs. He felt his way by keeping one hand firmly on the wall and when he reached the bottom fluorescent lights flickered on, triggered by his movement.  
  
There was nowhere to go but forward. It was like some sort of dungeon but more clinical somehow. He heard the faint sound of beeping, like a heart monitor, and it wasn’t until he turned the corner and saw through a pair of glass doors that it  _was_  a heart monitor.  
  
But that wasn’t all. Strapped to a bed, lying pale and motionless, was Merlin. It wasn’t his Merlin, the bright and carefree man that radiated life energy. It was a thin, skeletal wreck of a man, that if not for the steady  _beep-beep-beep_ , Arthur would have thought dead.  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered.  
  
“Yes, that’s me.”  
  
Arthur looked up. Across the bed was the imagined Merlin, the healthy looking Merlin, staring down at his own gaunt body with a mixture of pain and rage.  
  
“You  _are_  real,” Arthur said.  
  
“I am.”  
  
Arthur reached forward slowly, much too slowly for someone in a rush. He placed his hand on Merlin’s cold arm. The Merlin across from him gasped and looked at his arm in wonder.  
  
“I can feel you,” he said in awe.  
  
Urged on by a new thought, Arthur leaned over Merlin’s body and kissed the deathly pale lips softly.  
  
Merlin brought a hand to his lips and smiled. “I felt that too.”  
  
A tear trailed down his cheek and a matching one fell from the body strapped to the bed. Arthur gently wiped it away and kissed Merlin again.  
  
The heart monitor started beeping furiously— _beepbeep, beepbeep, beepbeep_ —and that reminded them both of their mission. Once they got out there would be time for more.  
  
“Take the IV out of my arm and unplug the machine,” Merlin instructed. “Once you do that...I won’t be able to project myself anymore. I can only do it when I’m asleep. It’ll be up to you to get us both out.”  
  
Arthur nodded. “I understand.” He carefully extracted the IV from Merlin’s arm and ripped the monitors off Merlin’s chest and temple. Then he undid the buckles of Merlin's restraints.  
  
“Just one more thing,” the projection of Merlin stopped him before Arthur unplugged the machine. “If we fail...if they catch you and they do kill me or fry my brain with electroshock therapy...I do love you, Arthur. Thank you for being my friend.”  
  
Arthur held Merlin’s—the real Merlin’s—hand in his own and squeezed. “We’re getting out of here, Merlin. I promise you, we’re getting out of here.” He pulled the plug and Merlin was smiling as he disappeared.  
  
Arthur picked up the thin body in the bed and hoisted it over his shoulder. It was light, too light for the body of a grown man. As soon as they got out of here, Arthur would make sure Merlin ate his fill.  
  
Navigating the stairs was difficult. He didn’t want to fall, not with Merlin in his arms, and it was dark and dangerous. Finally, he reached the top and now he had only to traverse the Solitary hallway, the common room, the spiral staircase, and then lastly, the lobby.  
  
Easier said than done, that’s for sure.  
  
The commotion in the common room had reached an all-time high. Arthur passed through practically unseen. He was halfway down the staircase when two men in suits yelled for him to stop.  
  
Arthur dared a glance over his shoulder at the two men barrelling down after him. “Stop that man!” They shouted at the hospital staff. Luckily they were all too busy dealing with multiple spreading fires and panicking patients to pay attention.  
  
He was in the lobby. He was so close, so close to freedom.  
  
“Arthur!”  
  
Arthur halted and turned around. There was something about the tone in that voice that made him do it, though he couldn’t be sure what.  
  
It was Gwen, the nurse. “Catch!”  
  
Arthur raised his hand and caught whatever she threw instinctively. He inspected the item in his palm: a key-ring with a single key on it.  
  
“Around the back, last in the lot,” Gwen said, and suddenly Arthur understood. He could have kissed her.  
  
Instead he nodded his thanks and continued his mad dash for safety. The automatic doors slid open at his approach and he ran around the side of the building for the back car park, positive that he heard feet running behind him.  
  
He clicked the unlock button on the key furiously, searching the car park for blinking lights. It was still only midday so he had to strain his eyes, but he finally found a navy car in the last space blinking its lights. He manhandled Merlin into the passenger seat then ran around to get in his own side.  
  
“Stop!” A suit-clad man warned him as he backed out of the space. Arthur ignored him, and when it looked as though he might run him over, the man jumped out of the way with a curse.  
  
Arthur was almost off the grounds when a gunshot fired and he ducked instinctively. He heard it hit the car but luckily it missed any glass and neither windshield shattered. Arthur floored the gas pedal and sped off down the gravel road away from the madhouse once and for all.

~

Arthur stared at the man lying in the hotel bed. After a trip to the bank and a clothing shop—there was no way to get around unnoticed in their asylum garb—Arthur had carried Merlin here and laid him down on the soft mattress. Now he couldn’t take his eyes off him. It was as if Merlin was in a coma.

There were so many questions. Why had Merlin been strapped to a bed in the basement? What did those government men want with him? How had Merlin been able to—what was the word?—project himself, and why was Arthur the only one who could see him? Most important of all: would Merlin ever wake up?

Arthur knew he should eat something, order room service, buy some crisps from a vending machine,  _some_ thing, but he couldn’t bear to leave Merlin. He hadn’t even been able to go to the toilet without thinking about suit-clad men bursting in and stealing him away.

The sun set and Arthur crawled into bed next to him. He still couldn’t believe this was Merlin. He’d seen all of Merlin’s body when he changed him into normal clothes, and he hadn’t liked what he saw. Merlin was like a skeleton, skin and bones, with no muscle to speak of from being strapped to a bed for so long.

Arthur fell asleep with half his face buried in the pillow and one arm over Merlin’s waist. He dreamt of burning card houses, angry government men, and screaming lunatics. He dreamt of cold darkness, long hours spent banging his head on the wall, wondering if he’d lost his mind or not, of staticy films with no sound, just the steady pulse of a heart monitor— _Beep. Beep. Beep._

And then a hand on his head woke him up. Arthur opened his eyes and in the moonlight falling into the room through the window he saw Merlin’s blue eyes staring back at him, sparkling and bright. Merlin’s hand was stroking his hair and he was smiling just the slightest bit.

“Arthur,” he croaked.

Arthur’s heart jumped. He could have somersaulted across the room, he was so happy. It was Merlin’s voice, Merlin’s  _real_  voice, that had said his name. It was scratchy and rough and Arthur would get him a glass of water right away, but it was beautiful, music to Arthur’s ears.

Merlin’s hand trailed down the side of Arthur’s face and held his cheek in his palm. “You did it,” he said. “You saved me. Thank you.”

Because Arthur was at a loss for words, he raised himself on his elbow and pressed his bitten lips to Merlin’s chapped ones. Merlin closed his eyes and sighed as if the world had stopped just for this moment, and as far as Arthur was concerned, it had. Arthur kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and Merlin kissed back because he was real and he could.

But Merlin couldn’t last forever. He was weak and soon became breathless. Arthur took pity on him and pulled away, staring deep into Merlin’s eyes as he said, “I love you, too, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled and in that one expression Arthur saw the old Merlin again, the bright, healthy, energetic Merlin that he’d known before. He felt his chest tighten with an aching love and desire to hold this man for the rest of his life and he could have cried at the sudden rush of joy.

Then Merlin’s stomach growled.

Merlin laughed, soft and breathy, not loud and deep like his projection had. “Sorry. Sort of ruined the moment, haven't I?”

Arthur kissed him again, a quick peck on sheepishly grinning lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m starving as well.” He extricated himself from Merlin’s arms and got up. “I’ll go find something.”

Merlin stretched his arms and Arthur thought he could hear bones creak. “What time is it?” Merlin asked.

Arthur consulted the red, digital numbers on the nightstand. “Two. Don’t worry, I’ll get something from the vending machine down the hall. And ice water.” Arthur pulled on his trousers and bent to kiss Merlin again as he buttoned them up, because he could. “I’ll be right back.”

He left Merlin smiling contentedly in bed. There was a bounce in his step as he practically skipped down the corridor to the machines. He was lucky he’d left his new wallet in his pocket when he’d taken off his trousers earlier, because he was so excited he would have forgotten money and the room key otherwise.

Arthur returned with two bags of crisps, salty and unhealthy, but good enough to take the edge off until morning. He found Merlin sitting up with his legs over the side of the bed and gasping for breath.

He ran over immediately, chucking the crisps on the bed. “What are you doing?”

Merlin looked up at him guiltily. “Trying to stand.”

Arthur lowered himself next to him and put Merlin’s arm around his shoulder, helping him. “How long did they have you like that?” Arthur didn’t need to clarify what “like that” meant.

Merlin groaned when Arthur slowly stood. “Ever since they put me in there three years ago. They let me get up and walk around sometimes, but never often enough. And I was always doped up on whatever that stuff was to keep me weak and powerless.”

Merlin grunted and nodded towards the desk chair on the other side of the room near the window. “I want to see,” he said, breathing heavily from exertion. “I haven’t seen outside with my real eyes for ages.”

They made their way slowly towards the chair, and Arthur helped him sit carefully in it. Then he rolled the chair closer to the window where Merlin could look out onto the city below.

Merlin remained silent for a while and Arthur didn’t speak either until he noticed Merlin was hiccuping a bit. He looked at the thin man in the chair and saw thick tears rolling down his face. He slipped his hand into Merlin’s and entwined their fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “I just...can’t believe I’m here. With you. After all this time.” He tore his gaze away from the sparkling lights of the city skyline to Arthur’s partially shadowed face. “I really thought I was going to wither away and die in there.”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “You’re safe now.” Merlin’s lips pressed in a tight line and he looked as though he wanted to disagree but he kept silent. Arthur kissed him again—would he ever tire of that?—and tore himself from Merlin’s side. He quickly returned with crisps and a glass of ice water. “Here.”

For a moment Arthur thought Merlin might be too weak to hold the glass by himself, but Merlin was strong and more importantly, determined. His hand trembled but he raised the glass to his lips and gulped heartily.

They nibbled their snack in silence, Arthur admiring the view of the city after months locked up and Merlin after years. This part of the city, at least, was quiet due to the late hour. Wispy clouds rolled past in the sky, aiding the bright lights in blocking a decent view of the stars.

When Merlin’s glass was empty and his bag of crisps depleted, Arthur rose to refill the cup and throw away and bag. As he sat down on the air conditioning unit next to Merlin he let himself ask the many questions that had been plaguing him.

“Why did they have you locked away down there?”

Merlin took the glass from Arthur and sipped gratefully. “I told you. They think I’m dangerous.”

“Why?”

Merlin sighed. “When I defended myself, killed my attacker...Someone saw me.”

“But it was obvious self-defence. Wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Merlin nodded. “But that’s not why they freaked out. It’s because of how I killed him. With magic.”

Arthur stopped breathing. “Magic?” he echoed.

“Mmhmm.”

Five heavy seconds passed and Arthur exhaled. “Okay.”

“So obviously I couldn’t be allowed to roam free. I’m a freak, a mutation, probably some kind of alien. At least that’s what they think.” He paused for another long sip of water. “And I couldn’t be simply imprisoned. Normal restraints wouldn’t hold me. No, I had to be locked away like some top secret government experiment. And what better place than an insane asylum? If anyone had found me, they’d just say they were crazy and it’d be true.”

“That’s why the drugs? To keep you weak and from doing...magic?”

Merlin met Arthur’s eyes, a hint of annoyance in them. “You don’t believe me.”

“I’m not sure what to believe. I was right about you being real, but for all I know I could still be a bit mad myself. And I still don’t understand why only I could see you before.”

Merlin’s expression softened. “They did that you. Made you doubt your own sanity. You’re not mad, Arthur. Trust me.”

“I do.” And he did.

“Only you could see me because I’d chosen to project myself only to you. It took me a while to be able to master it. They kept me asleep whenever they could, and when I wasn’t asleep I was still too weak to do any magic, like I am now. It’s a bit like lucid dreaming. I had to realise I was unconscious and then I could cast my mind out, like separating myself from my body and look around. Nobody would see me, but I could see them, and that’s how I kept up to date on things.

“Making myself visible to other people was the next logical step and it was during the first practise trials that I was actually lucky to be put in an asylum. If the image of me came out missing a nose or with skin like a leper, it didn’t matter because they were mental and hallucinating anyway. So whenever I was awake and unable to project, I’d tell you I was in Solitary. And whenever the men came to check on me I’d leave you so I could watch what they were doing to my body.”

“But you couldn’t project when you were passed out before,” Arthur noticed. “When I unhooked you from the machine you disappeared.”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. It’s a bit like a defence system. I can’t just go projecting myself whenever I’m napping. My body has to be threatened or something. That’s the only way I was able to get around their safety measures. I was too weak to do any conscious magic, but I could do a little because of the failsafe that kicked in.”

“This is so much to take in,” Arthur shook his head and smiled wryly. “Are you sure I’m not crazy?”

“You’re not crazy.” Merlin smiled. “Why else would government officials be chasing me? How else do you explain me projecting?”

“Both good points.”

“I’ll give you a proper demonstration of my power when I’m stronger. But for now...you should know...”

“Yes?”

“I’m not safe. They’ll never stop searching for me.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed and he sucked his bottom lip, looking all the world like a small child. Arthur cradled Merlin’s face in his palm and stroked a prominent cheekbone with his thumb. “Then we’ll keep running.”

“We can’t run forever. How will we get money? What about your sister—”

“Then we’ll go to Russia or America or Japan. We’ll hide, get new identities. We’ll make a life for ourselves. And my sister can rot, for all I care.”

Merlin smiled sadly and leaned into Arthur’s touch. “I can’t ask that of you. You can’t give up your whole life just for me.”

“Merlin, it’s  _because_ of you that I even have a chance at life right now. And I can’t imagine living without you— _won’t_  live without you—so you’re stuck with me, like it or not.”

“Just my luck to be stuck with a hopeless romantic.”

Merlin’s smile widened and Arthur let himself grin broadly as well before leaning forward and kissing him again.

~

As sick as Merlin was of this hotel room, he was hesitant about leaving it. Once he stepped out that door, there would be no turning back. His life would change forever, and he had to make sure it went down a path he wanted it to.

Merlin’s strength had returned fully by the end of the week and he’d been able to prove his magical abilities to Arthur by making a deck of cards assemble themselves into an impressive card house. Even outside of the asylum Arthur had taken to building them and had went out to buy a deck when he was sure Merlin could protect himself.

Merlin was making a few cards dance mid-air in boredom when Arthur came back. Merlin jumped up to greet him at the door.

“I’ve got our new passports and things,” Arthur said, handing a suspicious brown paper bag to Merlin.

Merlin pulled out an array of items, opening the first passport his hands grasped. He laughed when he saw their new names. “You don’t even look like a Bradley.”

“Oi, shut up,  _Col_ in,” Arthur teased. “I don’t have to look it, I just have to be it. And it’s only in public. We’ll still be Arthur and Merlin when we’re alone.”

“Thank goodness,” Merlin replied, rifling through the other contents. “I don’t think I could ever call out that name during sex. Just imagine: ‘Oh, oh, Bradley, yes,  _Bradley_ , fuck.’ Hardly a sexy name.”

Arthur’s breath hitched at the absolutely sinful tone Merlin’s voice had taken on when he’d simulated sex noises. Even if it was his fake name Merlin had been pretend-moaning, it did things to him. Merlin, the devious bastard, seemed to be all too aware of the fact.

“Speaking of which,” Arthur said, low and predatory, “We never did get around to—what was it you wanted to do to me?—fuck my mouth and ride my cock?” Merlin let out a noise that was definitely not a whimper as the bag dropped from his hands. Arthur stepped closer. “And I’d say you’re more than strong enough for such activities now, don’t you think?”

Merlin remembered the linen closet incident with shaking hands. It was true he hadn’t been well enough for more than heated snogging and a few romantic blow jobs, but now there was no reason not to fuck away their last night in the hotel room.

Arthur trailed his hand down the side of Merlin’s body and anchored it firmly on his arse. Arthur loved touching Merlin—to remind himself that Merlin was real, Merlin had figured out—and Merlin loved being touched. A mischievous glint entered his eye as he stepped up to meet Arthur’s challenge.

Merlin didn’t reply vocally, because he didn’t have to. Arthur knew him so well, and even if he didn’t it would have been obvious how much Merlin wanted him by the way he pressed his erection against Arthur’s thigh. Smirking, Arthur snaked his hands between their bodies and undid Merlin’s trousers, pulling them down as he sank to his knees.

“Oh God, yes,” Merlin gasped when Arthur took him in. It was pure bliss, slipping into Arthur’s mouth, like fitting into a warm, wet glove. Arthur hadn’t been lying when he said he loved sucking cock. The first time he’d been allowed access to Merlin he’d been enthusiastic and Merlin had come embarrassingly quickly. Though to be fair, it had been three years since he’d been touched that way.

Arthur was no less enthusiastic now, but he was taking his time. He was setting his own pace, teasing Merlin with swipes to the slit and using his free hand to play with the sensitive skin behind Merlin’s balls. It wasn’t until Arthur looked up at Merlin with blown eyes and placed a hand on each arse cheek that he allowed Merlin to thrust forward and fulfill his promise of fucking Arthur’s mouth.

Merlin steadied himself with his hands on the edge of the table behind him and jerked his hips forward into the welcoming heat. Arthur moaned around his hard length and pulled filthy noises from low in Merlin’s throat. Arthur didn’t have to speak a word because Merlin could practically hear the thoughts that ran through his head  _that’s it Merlin, just like that, keep it up, fuck me, fuck me, let yourself go_.

Merlin was surprised he lasted as long as he did. It wasn’t until Arthur’s probing finger nudged his entrance that he spent himself on Arthur’s tongue, coming with a cry that could have been Arthur’s name but sounded more like an incoherent wail than anything. Arthur stayed on his knees, swallowing every last drop and kissing beneath Merlin’s sack, until Merlin’s body sagged against the table. Only then did he rise and help Merlin out of the rest of his clothes before taking off his own and leading Merlin to the bed.

“You didn’t just go out for new passports, did you?” Merlin asked with a wry grin as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Arthur rummaged around deeper in the paper bag he’d brought back until he found what he was looking for. “Nope,” he said, smiling as he held up lube and condoms triumphantly.

“Should have known.” Merlin butterflied his legs wider. “Come on then.”

Arthur bit his lip as he scrambled forward and applied lube to his fingers. This wasn't the first time Merlin had been well and truly on display for him but the sight still bothered him and as he worked Merlin open he let himself look his fill. Merlin was still awfully thin—especially his legs, which Arthur couldn’t believe actually supported him—but he’d regained colour in his cheeks and that lively sparkle in his eye. His smile was bright and he radiated warmth and happiness. Even his hair stuck out in that wild, singularly Merlin way. Each day Arthur’s Merlin and the real Merlin came closer and closer to being one.

“Nnngh!” Merlin’s back arched when Arthur’s fingers massaged the sensitive spot deep inside. Merlin’s ribs were plainly visible through the skin and Arthur traced the outlines as he gently pushed Merlin back down.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Arthur asked, suddenly not as confident.

Merlin glared daggers at him. “If you even  _think_ of stopping—” But Arthur’s worried expression made him break off his threat. He continued in a softer voice. “I’m not as breakable as I look. Please, Arthur—oh!” Arthur’s fingers hitting his prostate again cut him off.

“Brilliant. That’s all I needed.”

“Prat,” Merlin said breathlessly.

The insult was laced with affection though, and Arthur grinned madly as he fumbled with the condom. Merlin, who had begun to grow stiff again, laid back and watched as he stroked himself.

But Arthur did eventually calm his hands enough to get it on properly and after an extra helping of lube—for safety. It  _had_ been three years for Merlin—they switched positions so that Arthur had his hands on Merlin’s hips as Merlin straddled him.

“Now, are you sure  _you’re_  ready?” Merlin grinned at him from above. He teased Arthur with his arse cheeks, squeezing Arthur’s cock between them. “I’ve been told I’m a fantastic shag. Drove a man insane once.”

Arthur groaned. “ _Mer_ lin.”

“Just making sure.” Then, with a look that should have been illegal, Merlin raised himself up and slowly, so agonisingly slowly, lowered himself on Arthur’s cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Arthur gasped.

Merlin didn’t respond, only kept his eyes closed as he let himself adjust to the stretch. Arthur caressed his thighs as he waited. He wouldn’t push, not yet. This was all about Merlin. It had always been about Merlin.

Finally, Merlin opened his eyes and smiled. He leaned forward and Arthur met him halfway, knowing what he wanted. Just as Merlin slipped his tongue in to slide next to Arthur’s, he rocked his hips back and forth.

It was slow and sweet at first, like an early morning fuck, as if they had all the time in the world. After they broke the kiss, Merlin gently pushed Arthur back down and placed his palms flat on Arthur’s chest, fucking himself on Arthur’s cock leisurely. Arthur needed more, so much more, but watching Merlin held him in mesmerised submission.

Eventually pain gave way to pleasure and Merlin did speed up. It was gradual at first, a steady increase in tempo that drove Arthur nearly to the edge. But then, as if a dam had broken without warning, Merlin went even faster, impaling himself so hard and using Arthur so relentlessly that Arthur had to reach behind him and hold the headboard of the bed to keep himself steady.

It was like Arthur wasn’t even there. Merlin had closed his eyes again and just rocked and rocked, forcing himself up and down, seemingly ignorant of the sound of their flesh making contact. Merlin himself was making little grunting “oh—oh— _oh_ ” noises each time he came back down. He was shaking the bed so hard the frame was knocking into the wall behind them and Arthur idly hoped nobody was in the room next to them.

“Oh fuck, oh yes, I knew you’d feel good inside me. Nngh, yeah Arthur,  _fu_ - _u-ck_.”

“M-Merlin, I don’t—fuck, I don’t think I can last much longer. Oh God.”

The slide, the sound, the unstoppable force that was Merlin ripped Arthur’s orgasm from him and he came so hard his vision doubled and went white around the edges. Every muscle in his body tensed and his knuckles were white from gripping the headboard so hard. His spine arched and his toes curled.

After a few tugs on his own cock, Merlin came tumbling behind him. He pulled himself off and collapsed, panting, beside Arthur.

“Wow,” Arthur commented when he’d caught his breath. “That was...intense.”

Merlin chuckled. “You’re telling me. I’m knackered.”

“You shouldn’t have used so much energy so soon.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Would you quit worrying about me? I told you I feel fine.”

“But you were so—you looked—”

“I  _know_  what I looked like. I was there, remember?” Arthur pursed his lips and Merlin couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss away the tension. “I just need some sun. Is there a lot of sun where we’re going? I noticed the plane tickets.”

Arthur grinned. “Sort of. It’s a big city and the skyscrapers will probably block out the sun most of the time, but there are parks.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Which city?”

“New York.”

“Aha! Well, they’ll certainly have trouble finding me there.”

“You’re okay with it? You won’t miss any family here or anything? I wasn’t sure...” Arthur looked a bit uncertain.

“Okay with it? I’m ecstatic! I’ve always wanted to go to America.” Suddenly Merlin had renewed strength and he sat up with an excited smile. “We’ll see the White House and the Statue of Liberty and go to Las Vegas and—”

“One thing at a time, Merlin,” Arthur chuckled. “We have to get to the airport first. And that means you have to get some sleep.”

Merlin pouted but laid back down. “I can sleep on the plane.” But even as he said so his fatigue returned and his eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier. Arthur stroked his hair because Merlin was real, in his arms, and he could.


End file.
